Page 13 of Lone Star Longing
“No, I don't need it, if you park close.”
That was a relief. She held the door for him and he led the way to her car. “Where are we going?”
“I’m in the mood for a chicken fried steak.”
“Those aren’t good for you.”
“It’s not like I have them every day, and I can bring leftovers home for lunch tomorrow.”
She couldn't argue with that logic, and started the car once his seat belt was buckled.
At least the road from their house to town wasn't too bumpy, because yes, she had to pee again. She thought that would come later, when the baby was sitting on her bladder. But no, she had to go every forty five minutes or so.
She fidgeted in the driver’s seat, and when she got to the restaurant, she made sure her dad was able to get out of the car and across the uneven cracked sidewalk before she bolted inside to the bathroom.
She didn't even notice Mrs. Conover and her son Beck until she was walking back to the table her dad had chosen. Her step stumbled, and she debated briefly over stopping before Mrs. Conover lifted her gaze and met Lacey’s. Her decision was taken away from her.
“Mrs. Conover! How nice to see you out and about.” She glanced at the woman’s dinner of chicken and dumplings and decided not to say anything. She was off-duty. So she refocused her gaze on Beck. He’d been a couple of years older than her in high school, but she recognized him right away.
He was the man who’d pulled her from the water that awful day.
Even so, he had matured into a man even more handsome than he’d been in high school. His dark hair was longer than his dad would have allowed him to wear in high school, his features had sharpened, and dark stubble shaded his strong jaw in the fluorescent lights of the diner. His blue eyes studied her as well. She thrust her hand in his direction.
“I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Lacey Davila. I’m your mom’s home health nurse now.”
His mouth twisted into a scowl. “The one I’ve been paying to go out and take care of her and the house?”
He’d ignored her hand, so she withdrew it, her own brow furrowing at the attack in his tone. “Yes, I go out three times a week, make sure she’s eating and everything’s clean.”
“We just came from there, and the place is a mess, hasn’t been cleaned in days.”
Her frown deepened. “I haven’t skipped any days, and my contract says I’m there two hours each visit, enough to get her some meals prepared, do some cleaning.” He had to know his mother didn't make it easy for her. She had piles of stuff she wouldn't part with, so Lacey just cleaned around it, swept and mopped, did some laundry once a week, cleaned the bathroom and kitchen. She had a system of what she did and when she did it. The system had been thrown off the other day when she had to come into town for groceries, which ate up an hour of that schedule. As it was, she had stayed longer than usual to get the meals prepped.
“I was thinking of calling your supervisor to report you.”
Of course he was. Why would she think Mrs. Conover’s son would be any kinder than Mrs. Conover herself? She drew herself up.
“Feel free. But I’ve been working with Mrs. Conover for over a year, and you know she doesn’t care for change.” She wanted to add, “Good luck finding anyone she likes,” but the woman was sitting right there. She turned back to the woman, whose own face reddened during the exchange. “Good to see you, Mrs. Conover,” she said, before marching back to her table with her dad.
“What was that about?” her father asked.
The lump in her throat kept her from answering right away. “One of my patients. Her son isn’t happy with my efforts.”
Her father made a noise in his throat. “Conovers. Never grateful for anything. I know how hard you work, and I know how difficult that woman is, just from our few interactions at the church. Surely he knows his own mother. I mean, he hasn’t even been here for years. Who is he to criticize you?”
“I’m not going to take it personally,” she lied, and took a sip of the ice water her dad had ordered for her. Great. She was going to have to pee again in a few minutes. She just hoped the Conovers had left by then. She didn't want another encounter.
*****
“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKINGat?” his mother demanded as she dragged her dumpling through the gravy.
“You didn't tell me Lacey Davila was your nurse. I don't know why I pictured someone older.” And he didn't know why he felt guilty now for being mad at her for the condition of his mother’s house.
“She’s younger than you. I think she was in the same class as Conrad. Around that age or so.”
“Yeah, I remember. Married?”
His mother’s gaze snapped to his in the fastest reaction he’d seen from her all day. “Why do you ask?”
